Take My Hand
by Meyanni
Summary: Piccolo writes a letter to Gohan. Torn by emotions, he finally admits that he loves the kid. Gohan is emotionally wrecked and refuses to have any sort of contact with Piccolo ever again. Stricken with grief, Piccolo goes on a suicide journey; Gohan won't leave to help him.
1. I love you, Gohan

_My dearest_

_Dear_

_Gohan..._

The words just didn't sound right. Piccolo's brow ridges jutted out as he frowned. The pen trembled in his hand, partially because he was having trouble holding it, and also because he wasn't sure of what to write. He blinked a few times and exhaled, placing the tip of the pen back on the parchment.

_I don't know why I am writing this to you. I don't even know why I am writing at all. I'm not very good at it. I suppose I just needed to be able to say some things to you without talking._

Piccolo placed the pen down and rested his brow on the heels of his hands; his elbows on top of the paper. His arms slid forward, and a tearing sound was heard. Alarmed, Piccolo picked up the paper and realized a tear had, in fact, been made. Growling softly, he smoothed the letter out and picked his pen up again.

_I know it might be hard to understand, but I need to tell you... you need to know... it's eating me alive from inside..._

The tips of Piccolo's ears and along his cheekbones turned a slightly darker green as he gently bit his lip; his fangs leaving slight indents in the soft flesh. He closed his eyes for a second, and was swarmed by memories of years past. The corners of his lips turned ever so slightly upward as he reminisced about training Gohan.

_When I left you all alone in that desert, you weren't alone for the first few nights, Gohan. I was there... I watched over you..._

Piccolo pinched the bridge of his nose.

_I wanted to make sure you would be safe... be all right..._

_I..._

Placing the pen down, Piccolo buried his face in his hands, inhaling in a rather ragged breath. His heart beat heavily, as if he were going through an emotional trauma. His mind went into overdrive, and he could not stop his thoughts from flowing. _**You're weak, Piccolo. You're nothing but a weakling Namek. No man should ever feel this way. You're an awful person to let yourself feel. No, you're a monster. Only a monster would allow himself feelings.**_

"**Shut up**!" He yelled aloud. The window in front of him shattered; the glass shards raining on the floor, making a delightful noise. Piccolo took no notice of it. His cheeks flushing darkly, the pen was picked up, held in a shaking, sweaty grip.

_I love you, Gohan. Yes, I know it's wrong, but I can't help the way I feel..._

Piccolo noticed his eyes stinging, and he realized that if Nameks had tear ducts, he would be crying.

_I know you will never read this, for only my eyes will ever see it, but I somehow feel lightened by just writing it._

His hand shook, and the pen slipped out of his four-fingered grip. Deciding that it was better that way, Piccolo stared at the letter, re-reading over to himself. A sudden bout of fury overtook him, and he snatched up the paper, angrily crumpling it in his green fist. He soundlessly hurled it away from him, and it smacked against the wall, where it fell onto the pile of broken glass.

Breathing heavily, Piccolo stared at the forlorn piece of parchment. Every fiber of his being wanted to light the letter on fire, but there was something inside of him that refused to allow it.

Rising slowly from the chair, he kept his gaze on the paper. He walked over to the broken window, gazing outside. Piccolo's eyes stung again as he could almost picture Gohan running up the path to his home, waving and yelling out his name in happiness.

The Namek bent down and picked up the letter. He carefully uncrumpled it, trying to smooth out the wrinkles as best as he could. He then meticulously made a trifold of the paper, and walked back over to the table. He picked up the pen once more.

_Gohan_

He nearly smiled as he wrote the name on the letter, as if he were actually going to give it to Gohan. He left the letter on the table with the pen on top, so the wind wouldn't blow it away.

The window proved to be the best escape route for Piccolo, and he flew outside, the sunlight shining down on him.

And Piccolo had never felt more alive.


	2. Broken glass

To any human being, the warm sunlight, combined with the gentle August breeze, would have felt simply wonderful. But to a Namek, especially when that Namek is Piccolo, it generally goes by unnoticed. And I say generally, because in this case, it is an extremely rare exception.

Piccolo flew at a rather leisurely pace, closing his eyes and letting the warm rays of light spread across his skin. The bright glows warmed him, and he felt a sense of a peaceful bliss that he had never before experienced. The sensation was so unfamiliar to him, but he allowed himself the feeling; enjoying it to the fullest.

Inhaling deeply, the Namek could smell orange blossoms and the smell of peeled ginger floating on the breeze. He smiled ever so slightly, and took another breath; this time detecting the smells of horses and melons. His eyes remaining closed, Piccolo allowed his instincts to take him far away; away to a place where he had always felt a sense of real comfort.

…

"Piccolo?"

Gohan's fist gently thumped on the door of the tiny capsule home for the third time. Pan knocked on the door as well, but no sounds could be heard.

"Gee," Gohan frowned, "I guess I'll leave him a note letting him know I stopped by..." He began fumbling through his pockets, looking for something to write with.

Bored of waiting, Pan ran off around the house. Rounding the eastern side of the dwelling, her eyes widened at the sight of the shattered window. "D-daddy..!" she shrieked. In an instant, Gohan was at her side. He looked at the window for a few seconds, and then leapt inside, Pan in his arms.

Placing his daughter on the floor away from the glass, he trotted upstairs to see if his old teacher was napping. Pan wisely stayed away from the window shards, and chose to sit at the table to wait for her father. After hoisting herself up onto a chair, she noticed a piece of paper and a pen. _I could draw a picture for daddy!_ she thought happily to herself.

Snatching both items in her fists, she uncapped the pen and set the tip to the paper. Before she made her first line, she noticed that something was already on the paper. She recognized it as her father's name. "Daddy!" she yelled, "Uncle Piccolo left you a note!"

Hearing his daughter's message, Gohan was downstairs in an instant. He took the wrinkled piece of paper from Pan's hands, noting his name written on it.

"Huh, that's kind of weird," he said, half to himself, "Why would Piccolo leave me a letter? He didn't know we were even coming over today..."

Running a hand through his thick hair, Gohan shook the trifolded paper open. After scanning the first few lines, he blinked and reread them. _My dearest? Dear? What on earth? Is this even for __**me**__?_

Gohan's eyes grew wider as he carefully read each line of the letter. His breath grew short, and he could feel sweat tricking down his forehead.

_I love you, Gohan. Yes, I know it's wrong, but I can't help the way I feel..._

Gohan read that line six times over again, as if he thought it would make the words change. They did no such thing. His heart was beating faster than it ever had in any battle he had ever fought. His knees shook, and he collapsed into the chair behind him. He feverishly read the last of the letter; his hands dampening the paper with sweat.

Pan watched her father with eager eyes at first, but then they turned to curious, then to alarmed. Leaping out of the chair, she ran to her daddy's side, tugging at his arm.

"Daddy..? What's wrong with Piccolo?"

Awakened to reality, Gohan looked down at Pan, "Oh..." he said slowly, "Uhm, Piccolo wasn't feeling well. He... he left to go get some fresh air..."

Pan seemed satisfied with this answer, "Can we go get ice cream then like you promised?" she asked gleefully.

Gohan carefully refolded the letter and slipped it inside his pocket. He smiled down at his daughter, "I said ice cream was for after dinner, silly!"

He reached down and smoothed Pan's hair, "I promise we will go after dinner, okay? Mommy won't be happy if I spoil your appetite, you know."

Pan nodded ruefully, and then tugged at Gohan's hand, "Then let's go home to eat!" she cooed.

After nodding his approval, Gohan and Pan flew out from Piccolo's home, and back to their own. On the journey home, Gohan mulled the letter over and over in his mind. _I don't think Piccolo ever intended for me to read that_, he mused. Pan sensed her father's nervous preoccupation, and she said nothing on the entire way back to the house.

After making a safe landing at home, Gohan told Pan to let Videl know that he was going for a walk before dinner.

"Are you gonna go check on Uncle Piccolo?" she asked.

"I..." Gohan frowned, "N-no, this has nothing to do with Piccolo, sweetie." He ruffled her hair and then walked off.

The instant his home was out of his sight, he soared into the air, heading for the place that he had spent one of the earliest years of his life in. His emotions churning, Gohan had to struggle to maintain a steady speed and velocity as he flew. _I... I've never felt like this before... what is wrong with me..?_

As he neared the grounds, he sensed a familiar presence. His stomach felt light and hollow, and his heart began beating fast. He knew it was Piccolo.

…

The sound of the water, the wind in the trees, and the smell of the sweet grass were all chasing themselves inside Piccolo's mind as he meditated. _Who would have known that nature could be so soothing?_

His concentration broke suddenly as he felt a source of power heading for him. Broadening his senses, he recognized it immediately.

_Unbelievable..._

Gohan was heading straight for him.


	3. Choice

_Well, I never thought this would be a hit, but jeez, I've gotten demanding messages threatening to lynch me if I didn't update. So yeah. Here._

Piccolo's heart beat to the meter of a hummingbird's wings. He could feel the sweat trickling down his forehead and he wasn't sure what to do. Run? He could, but Gohan would just catch up to him. And then get suspicious. Gohan didn't know anything. The kid wasn't in the know. Piccolo exhaled slowly, trying to keep his cool. Couldn't let his old protégée see him all flustered. He rose from his meditation position and stood firmly on both feet, crossing his arms. He looked like the Piccolo of old, the pre-Gohan Piccolo. Grim, un-emotionless Piccolo. And he was going to stay that way.

Gohan landed on the ground with a soft _tak_. He walked up to Piccolo, not smiling. The Namek could see a strange look in the kid's eyes, and he couldn't place what it was. But one thing was for sure: something was definitely off about him. Gohan stood in front of his old mentor, almost tall enough to be able to look him straight in the eyes. He was quiet for a moment, and Piccolo kept the same silence. He would wait for Gohan to speak first.

"So," Gohan began with a slightly shaking voice, "Pan and I were at your house today."

That one sentence. That was all it took. Piccolo's teeth involuntarily bit into his lip, and the sweating of bullets commenced. His eyes closed, and he drew in a ragged breath. He knew that Gohan had seen the letter. No mistaking it. Well now what? His worst nightmare had come about, and here he was fumbling over mere thoughts. This was great. Of course this would have happened. This was so typical. He couldn't keep anything hidden these days. Everything was always out in the open. Why couldn't he have stayed the demon spawn he was and saved himself all this accursed trouble?

"Anything you'd like to clarify?" Gohan broke into his fevered thoughts.

The Namek froze, and tried desperately to think of something to say. What could he say? "Seems you don't need me to clarify anything," he stated, "you've got everything when you picked up the paper. I bet it's in your pocket right now."

Gohan's hand instinctively touched his back pocket, and slipping two fingers down, he pulled out the crumpled letter, showing it to Piccolo, "You know me too well, Piccolo," Gohan said carefully, "but it seems I don't know you anymore."

The words stung. They cut through to that Namekian heart like Krillin's destructo-disc. And it hurt. He almost wanted to clutch his chest and bowl over. But he didn't. He remained rigid, like a statue. He blinked a few times, making extra sure that he couldn't cry, "I never wanted to hide nothing from you, Gohan," he stated honestly, "but do you think I could have told you this and have you taken it like it was normal?"

Gohan's brow furrowed, as if he was a little mad at the fact that Piccolo was correct. He dropped the letter, both of them watching it as it drifted in a last spiral to the ground, half-blown to the left by the wind. It rested near Piccolo's feet, but he made no move to pick it up. It was a conversational stalemate, with Gohan being the one to figure out how to move. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, obviously trying to think of something better. Piccolo just silently watched him, trying not to stare like he wished he could. He could gaze at Gohan all day and just be content; he was so beautiful.

"I'm disgusted, Piccolo."

The Namek's mouth nearly dropped open. Had he heard correctly? Did Gohan.. yes. Yes he had. Piccolo's heart began beating slowly, and heavily, like a death drum, just waiting to cease. All that he had hoped and prayed would never happen just did. And he couldn't change it. It was over. Officially ended.

"Yeah.." He whispered, "I am, too." He was disgusted with himself, not over the situation.

"Do me a favor, Piccolo," Gohan muttered, turning around, "don't ever let me see your face again." And with that spat out, he raised his head and flew off faster than Piccolo had ever seen him go before. He didn't want to be followed. And the Namek chose to honor it.

When Gohan was finally out of sight, Piccolo's knees gave way, and he let himself fall to the ground. He allowed himself to curl into a ball, wrapping his arms around his head. And he let out a long, moaning wail; his only way to cry. But it couldn't make him feel better. He needed something more. And he knew how to do it. A lesson from Gohan himself; one that he had broken him from. But now it was time to bring it back.

Piccolo uncurled his body and lifted off, flying straight up. He didn't even need to look where he was going, for he knew the place by heart. Setting his feet on the smooth stone floor, he looked up at Dende, who was obviously expecting him. The younger Namek gazed at Piccolo, his eyes full of pain and compassion. He knew. He knew everything. The guardian nodded to the floor, and Piccolo saw the Dragon Balls neatly piled together. Dende really did know everything.

"Piccolo, are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yes."


	4. Innocent Tears Shed

After gently making sure the Dragon Balls were together, Dende spoke the words of summoning, and Shenlon came forth from the orbs of power. He hovered high in the blackened sky above the two, staring down at them with his flaming red eyes. "**Three wishes will be granted to you**," came the voice made of thunder. Around him, the flaming, Saiyan-like energy sizzled like raw electricity, and the floor under Piccolo's feet still thrummed with the deepness of Shenlon's voice.

"I.." Piccolo faltered, and looked over to Dende. The guardian nodded sadly, and then closed his eyes. Piccolo steeled himself, and looked Shenlon's right in the eyes, "I wish to be able to weep as a human does..!"

A low humming could be heard, as if Shenlon was laughing a little, "It will be done as you say."

Behind his eyes, Piccolo could feel a slight tickling and a faint, piercing pain, and then that stinging of his eyes came about. He hurriedly blinked, not wanting to use this new ability in front of Dende. Dipping his head, Piccolo told the Dragon that he wasn't going to make any more wishes. Shenlon nodded, vanishing back into the Dragon Balls like water down a drain. The orbs shimmered for a moment, and then scattered, flying off the lookout and falling across the globe.

A moment of silence hung in the air, with Dende staring at the floor, and Piccolo staring down at Earth. After a few minutes, Dende cleared his throat awkwardly, "Well, I guess this means you'll be off now.."

"Yeah.." Piccolo murmured, turning his back toward the younger Namek. Not even nodding a farewell, Piccolo leapt off the side of the platform, hurling in a neat dive towards Earth. Without thinking of where he wanted to go, he found himself back in that same training place that he'd been only moments before. After landing on the ground, he took a moment to recap everything that had just happened to him. In such a short amount of time, he had finally admitted his feelings for Gohan to himself. Then he had unwillingly admitted them to Gohan himself. And then Gohan, the man he loved, proverbially spat in his face and left him in the dirt.

That was enough thought. Those tears, that newfound release of emotion, consumed the Namek, and he couldn't stand. His legs cut out from underneath him, and his hands covered his face. The tears were hot and they poured through his closed fingers, as he was unable to stop the flow. And he didn't want to. It felt nice to cry.. and cry Piccolo did. His body rocked back and forth as he wept, and his lungs seemed non-functional as his body was wracked with sob after sob. It felt so wonderful, and yet.. it was almost as if he was crying straight from his heart.. it beat like a dull drum, and each labored _thump_ felt like a hammer in his chest.

And so the Namek wept, mourning the loss of his Gohan.


End file.
